PROMPT: Co-stars AU

"Remind me again," Eomer asks, breath hot and all-together-too-distracting along the shell of her ear, "why we're doing this?"

Lothiriel, who is well aware that it is the dead of summer and they're standing behind thick curtains of an outdoor theater, does not shiver. Not even a little bit, not even when Eomer shifts behind her as he ties the bow at the back of her dress, the heat of his hands making her skin itch with awareness.

"Because," she says, "we made a promise."

"A promise," he grumbles, and she can't help but smile at the gruffness of his tone, now that she knows him well enough to know it's an act 97% of the time, "to four of the most devious kids I've ever known."

"Don't lump Sam and Frodo in with Merry and Pippin," Lothiriel argues, turning to face him and hand him his mask all in one swoop, "they genuinely like the idea of a play."

"Hmph," Eomer snorts. "Or are at least better at looks of wide-eyed innocence."

That, Lothiriel concedes, might be true.

Regardless, there's no backing out of this now. Not when Sam shyly presents her with a flower-crown he's clearly woven himself, or when Frodo emerges from the make-shift dressing room in the tiniest-and arguably most adorable-ceremonial robes she's ever seen. Merry and Pippin are more comical than cute in their respective costumes, but their mops of curly hair and faces rounded with baby fat tip the scales back in their favor. Faramir and Eowyn, however, aren't so lucky.

"Laugh all you want," Eowyn grumbles, tugging at the long, scraggly grey wig that looks disturbingly like Gandalf's beard, "but you two have the lead roles. Pressure's on."

Faramir, who is far too tall and broad to be the wizened old magic man he's supposed to be, grins widely at Eomer's long suffering groan. "It could be worse. They roped Eowyn and I into being Romeo and Juliet last year. But with zombies."

Wait a minute, Lothiriel thinks. This is her first year at the camp as a counselor, after all, but she's close enough to Faramir to remember him coming home the summer before on Cloud 9, muttering dreamily about the horse riding instructor, four wonderful boys from Hobbiton, and Shakespeare. The little devils are matchmaking, and it's very apparent who this year's targets are.

It...should bother her more. Eomer is her soon to be cousin-in-law, after all, and a good bit older than her, and is the complete opposite of any man she's ever dated before. But he's also incredibly gentle with the kids, as good of a brother to Eowyn as Lothiriel's own are to her, smart, incredibly handsome, and-

Well, she's really running out of reasons as to why she should mind that her campers have apparently noticed her not-so-pint-sized crush on him.

The first run through of the play is. Well.

It's funny, above all else, because Pippin can't remember his lines for the life of him-

"You fell victim to one of the most classic blunders-the most of which is 'never get involved in a land war in...in…'

"Arda!" Merry hisses helpfully from just off-stage.

"Right!" Chirps Pippin. "-in Arda, but the only slightly less well-known is this: "Never go in against a goblin-"

"-you're not a goblin, Pip, you're just a man-"

"But that's boring, Merry!"

And the only thing funnier than watching a 10 year old bumble his way through lines from the Princess Bride would be watching Eomer (Westley), Gimli (Fezzick), and Legolas (Inigo) try to keep a straight face as he does so. But Lothiriel, as Princess Buttercup, is blindfolded, and has to content herself with making due with hearing the muffled laughter coming from stage-right. (It's Aragorn, presumably, who has been entirely miscast as Prince Humperdink.)

The stage isn't really made for some of the feats the boys so loved from the movie, but they do the best they can. The stage is flat as a board, but somehow Eomer manages to roll-rather dramatically, much to the enjoyment of the rest of the campers avidly watching from the benches-across it, groaning "As youuuu wissshh" as he goes.

Lothiriel flops herself down next to him, equally as dramatic, and has to bite back a smile when he leans himself over her. The kids gasp appropriately when he removes his mask. Lothiriel nearly does too, but not for the same reason. He's even more handsome than usual, this close, and the brush of his hand over her cheek sets off a riot of butterflies in her stomach.

"I told you I would always come for you," he says, and oh, that's really not fair, not fair at all. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Well," she says, grateful that the waver in her voice is appropriate for this, "you were dead."

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while," he says, still looking a touch too smug for her taste because he knows, he obviously knows how much this is affecting her right now.

Valar help her, but if Pippin can go off script, why can't she? So she kisses him before she can think better of it-which, hm, isn't technically out of character, especially after a line like that-

Eomer's tongue sweeping into her mouth is a shock, and a good one, and she could no more stop herself from curling her fingers into his hair than stop breathing-which, come to think of it, she just might, if he keeps kissing her like that-

"And I think it's time for intermission!" Someone-vaguely, Lothiriel thinks it might be Faramir, but she's too lightheaded to be sure-cries.

Eomer lifts his head, looking as dazed as she feels. The sudden cacophony of noise filters back in around them-wolf whistles, cheers, squeals, all coming from the campers, oh Valar-

"Two for two, Merry!" Pippin is crowing. "I told you it was a good idea-"

"Shh, they'll hear you," Sam hisses. "And then we'll never get the chance to put Legolas and Gimli in a play-"

Lothiriel stifles a laugh into Eomer's shoulder.

"And you thought Sam and Frodo were innocent," he grumbles.

"Do not," she orders, poking him lightly in the chest, "say I told you so."

Eomer grins. "As you wish."